Pulling Me Under
by mavin-mania
Summary: It wasn't always like this. There was a time when they first started out that Gavin was sweet. Not to say he's not sweet now, but it was a time when he didn't get so angry.


"No, Gavin, please!"  
Michael begged as he watched Gavin's fist come down again, closing his eyes, bracing for impact. Without warning, Gavin collapsed on the floor, his body shaking violently as he started to cry. Michael pulled the smaller man onto his lap, rocking him back and forth.  
"Shh, it's okay Gav." He whispered into his neck, stroking his back as another violent shiver tore through his body.  
"I'm sorry, Michael." Gavin whispered back.  
Michael pulled the Brit off the floor, taking him to the bedroom where he would soothe him to sleep.  
"I love you, my little Michael." Gavin cooed as he drifted off into a deep sleep.  
Michael laid awake yet another night, his face throbbing from the nasty bruise he know would be there tomorrow.  
Another bruise, another excuse he'd have to make for Gavin.  
It wasn't always like this. There was a time when they first started out that Gavin was sweet. Not to say he's not sweet now, but it was a time when he didn't get angry. They would go out to movies, dinners, game nights with friends. It was perfect - everything Michael had ever wanted.

He can still remember the first time Gavin had laid a hand on him.  
It was a late night at the bar. Gavin was clearly really drunk, Michael having to drag him up to their apartment. Michael accidentally bumped the man into the counter and heard him hiss.  
"Watch where you're going, you donut."  
"'m sorry Gavin."  
"You better fucking be sorry." Gavin's words slurred, but the threat was audible in his tone. Michael ignored it. He was just stupidly drunk, he didn't mean it, right?

He laid Gavin down on the couch, muttering for him to stay there while he grabbed him some water. When he was finished pouring Gavin's water out of the fridge and turned around to walk back to the couch but was greeted with the Brit's torso, bumping forcefully into him. Gavin got knocked back, and the glass fell to the ground between them, shattering.  
"Hope you're cleaning that up."  
"Yeah fucking right, it's your own damn fault. You clean it up." Michael teased.  
"What the fuck did you just say?" Gavin's voice completely changed. His slurred words became crystal clear in the growl that overtook his voice.  
"I-uh" Michael stuttered, looking up at the Brit who towered over him. The look in his eyes was unbelievable, it was menacing and absolutely terrifying. He started to back up as Gavin got closer and closer.  
"Where are you going, love?" The unfamiliar voice growled at him  
"Gav-Gavin stop, you're scaring me."  
Michael stopped as his back hit something hard-the table. He was trapped as Gavin's face got closer to him. Gavin's face became a mere inches away from him, his heavy breathing releasing the smell of whiskey.  
"Why don't you be a good little boy, and go clean that up."  
It wasn't a question, it was a demand. Michael was frozen, he absolutely couldn't move if his life depended on it. He watched Gavin's arm pull back, his fist clenching. He closed his eyes, and the side of his face was greeted by a heavy object that felt less like the soft hands Michael had grown to know, but more like a sledgehammer, hellbent on destroying everything in its path.  
Michael felt himself fall to the floor, his body greeting the cold surface.  
"I. Gav. I-I'm sorry."

Michael knew this was his fault. He should have just cleaned up the mess. He fucked up big this time.

It wasn't so much the pain he couldn't tolerate. He could tolerate it, he knew he deserved it. If he just listened to Gavin, he wouldn't get hit. It was his own fault.

Looking back on it now, Michael could see the first signs. The territorial motive he had, the isolation that began. He can remember when Gavin started leaving hickeys more and more, making them visible.  
"You're mine." He would growl. Michael knew that, everyone knew that. The hickeys weren't such a big deal, everyone recieved hickeys. It was normal. But with marking his territory, Gavin got more and more possessive. He started refusing to let Michael go out with any of the guys from work.  
"Why would you need to do that?" He would say. "We've got everything we need here. Am I not enough for you?" Gavin would tear up, his face absolutely broken.

So Michael gave in. Stopped going out, stopped giving excuses. They stopped asking him, knowing he wouldn't go out and wouldn't give an excuse.

Those were the first signs. Followed by actual impact.

The first time Gavin had actually hit him, he couldn't believe it. He was in shock, and Gavin was unbelievably sorry. So, Michael forgave him. After all, it wouldn't happen again, right?

Until it did happen again.

And again.

And again.

Obviously, people started to ask questions. Where were all these bruises coming from?  
Gavin started getting more discreet, hiding the bruises where they could easily be concealed under fabric.  
Why wouldn't Michael leave? He couldn't. How could he leave the one person who would love him?  
He became more and more isolated, his videos getting less funny as his downspiral into depression continued.  
At first, nobody said anything. They figured it was just relationship issues. They'd get resolved. When the bruises started, that's when they put two and two together.  
Ray started asking questions one day when they were alone in the office.  
"Michael, when did Gavin start hitting you?" Ray asked, jumping right on the topic, not wanting to skirt around it.  
"Wh-what? G-Gavin would never hit me. What are you talking about?"  
"The bruises, Michael. What the fuck, man? I know you didn't do those to yourself?"  
"I'm just clumsy, okay? Don't talk about Gavin like that. Gavin loves me."  
Michael turned back to his desk, putting on his headphones, not wanting to be disturbed again.  
He heard Rays footsteps as he left the office and he got back to work.

After lunch everyone piled back into the office, and Michael was greeted by Gavin's lips on his cheek.  
Michael smiled at him. See? Gavin was still the man he fell in love with.. He just had a temper. That's all.

Perhaps that was the day things got the most out of control.  
The minute Michael closed the door to their apartment, Gavin was in his face screaming about how Michael was whoring himself out  
"Gavin, I didn't do anything."  
"I saw the way you were talking to Ray. Gonna fuck him too? You probably would, you fucking whore."  
"What? Gavin, no. I love you. Just you!"  
Suddenly, Gavin's hand was on his neck, dragging him to the bedroom. Before Michael knew what was happening Gavin had him stripped down and was starting to take his own clothes off.  
"Gavin, baby. Please." he begged  
"If you're going to act like a slut, I'm going to make you feel like one too."  
Without warning, Gavin pushed himself inside Michael, pain tearing through his body.  
"No, no, no. Please Gavin, please stop" Michael whimpered, but Gavin wouldn't relent. He felt tears streaming down his face and he let himself go limp, knowing he wouldn't win this battle.  
After what felt like hours, Gavin was finished and he let himself out of the room to go shower.  
Michael didn't get any sleep that night. Everytime he closed his eyes, he was swept up into nightmares that shook him awake. It wasn't until early in the morning when Gavin let himself back into their bed, holding Michael close in the softest and sweetest way possible.  
"'m sorry love." He mumbled, kissing the top of Michaels head. Michael sighed into Gavin's body, letting himself be comfortable next to the body he once called home.

The next day carried on much like normal, wake up at 6, shower, get ready, go to work.  
They got to work shortly before 9 and started on editing.  
"'morning Geoffrey" Gavin smiled at the man he once looked to as a father. Geoff smiled at him, but Michael caught the look on his face as he turned around. Something was off..  
"Gavin Free?" An unfamiliar voice called from outside the door. Michael turned to see two men in police uniforms standing there.  
"Yeah?"  
"We're going to need you to come with us."  
Gavin got up from the chair, going with them.  
"Wonder what that's about..." Michael thought aloud.  
"I, uh.. Might know." Ray mumbled.  
"What? Ray, what did you do?" Michael felt himself getting angry.  
"Michael, calm down" Geoff piped in.  
"Calm down?! Do you know what's going to happen? He's going to get deported!"  
Michael felt his face go red with rage.  
"I can't lose him, I can't lose him, I can't"  
Ray caught him as he collapsed.

"Michael, wake up." Geoff's familiar voice rang through his ears. Michael's mind was foggy, but he could remember what happened. He could remember watching Gavin be taken away by the police.  
"Whoah, buddy. Calm down, you're going to pass out again."  
Michael pushed himself away from Ray, sitting up on the couch.  
"What. The fuck. Happened." Michael demanded.  
"Michael, come on." Geoff tried reasoning with the already angered man.  
"Tell me what's going on!"  
Geoff sighed, but agreed to start talking.  
"Michael, we've... noticed. Everyone knows what's going on."  
"There's nothing going on! You're all fucking idiots, there's nothing wrong with mine and Gavin's relationship."  
"Michael.." Ray chimed in, "Nobody said anything about your relationship."  
"I-"  
Michael broke down, letting out the past year of pent up pain and agression through the tears that wouldn't stop falling from his face. Ray put an arm around Michael, comforting his best friend.  
"It's going to be okay."  
"No, it's not. Gavin's gone, and it's all my fault, if I had just kept my big mouth shut-"  
"Don't you fucking dare. This is not your fault. People do this because they're sick. He's sick and he needs help."  
"Geoff, I-"  
"Michael, it's going to be okay." He put his hands on Michael's shoulders. "You're going to be okay. We're here for you. We're not going anywhere."  
For the first time in a long time, Michael felt different.  
He felt...  
Hopeful.


End file.
